Last Survivor
by Morwen Tindomerel
Summary: AU: Lantash and Lt. Elliot survive their kamakaze attack.
1. Chapter 1

Kevin Elliot opened his eyes, and found himself looking up at a blue sky from the bottom of a stone box. "I'm alive."

_We are alive._

"Lantash?"

_Yes._

"Weren't we supposed to die?"

_Yes. They had a sarcophagus._

Slowly, carefully, Elliot sat up. "Jesus!"

Bodies lay in heaps around the sarcophagus, most in Jaffa armor but one in the elaborate robes of a Goa'uld host. All were at the worst possible stage in the transition from flesh to skeleton. The smell was sickening. Elliot hastily lay down again, swallowing hard.

_As you can see, it worked._

"That's good - I guess. Any idea how long we've been in this thing?"

_Long enough for the poison to dissipate and the bodies reach this state decomposition. Two weeks to a month perhaps?_

"I think, I'm going to hurl."

_Me too._

"Let's get out of here!"

_I could not agree more._

------

Elliot looked at the DHD. "Uh, Lantash? The only address I know is for Earth and we can't go there. SG-1 took my GDO and we'd splat against the iris."

_I am thinking. Most of the addresses I know are for fallen bases.... Ah._

Elliot watched his hand reach out and enter an address. "Serpens Caput; Sextans; Auriga; Hydra; Triangulum; Canis Minor - that would be somewhere in the opposite galactic arm wouldn't it?"

_Very good, Lieutenant Elliot._

"I've always liked figures and codes," he answered as the 'kawoosh' came roaring out. And call me Kevin, we're going to be together to for a long, long time."

_Longer than either of us anticipated. Kevin... I know how Tau'ri feel about joining -_

Elliot shook his head. "Don't worry about it, pal. I'm really glad not to be alone."

_I too. _

Together they walked into the puddle.

There was the usual sensation of great and dizzying speed as they zoomed past galaxies of stars and through flashing auroras of light - to step out into a stone platform overlooking a park-like sweep of lawn. What looked like the local equivalent of picnickers and joggers stood in huddled groups at a safe distance. Over their heads and beyond a fringe of trees Elliot could see the tops of stepped buildings. He could hear the roar of distant traffic and smell the acrid odor of industrial emissions. "Just like home."

He jumped as sirens screamed and the crowd parted to let through buglike vehicles flashing with lights. Uniformed men poured out to form a ring around him, bristling with leveled weapon. "Yup, exactly like home." He raised his hands, groping for the right Goa'uldish words. Lantash supplied them:

"Hol mel! Tek'ma'tek." (Hold your fire! I come in peace.) The gun barrels didn't move but nobody pressed a trigger. "Mak Tauri, tek'ma'te." (I am a Tauri and a friend.) Nobody moved. "Uh, Lantash, I'm getting the distinct impression here that they don't understand a word I say."

_However I believe the message we are unarmed and intend no threat is getting through._

"I sure hope so!"

Suddenly one of the men returned his small hand weapon to its holster. The other barrels dipped ground-ward and Elliot relaxed a little. The first man, presumably the one in command approached, slowly climbing the steps to look Elliot carefully in the face. He said something, slowly and clearly, the only word Elliot could understand was 'Tauri'.

He nodded emphatically. "Mak Tauri. That's me!"

The man was frowning, but it was an intent and thoughtful frown, not an angry one. He gestured for Elliot to follow him.

The bulbous bodies of the buggy vehicles held two pairs of seats, facing each other. Elliot sat opposite the commander under the eyes of two wary guards. 'Well, they know what a Tauri is anyway,' he said silently to Lantash.

_Yes. Clearly they retain some memory of their origins._

Elliot essayed a smile, "I'm Kevin Elliot," he said putting a hand flat on his chest then pointed: "You are?"

The commander got the message. "Sargon Ulmesh, "

"Nice to meet you," Elliot said, leaning back in his seat he closed his eyes. "Take me to your leader."

_Why do Tauri find that phrase so amusing? _Lantash asked curiously.

Elliot grinned a little ruefully. 'It's hard to explain.'

----

The room was perfectly square, the upper third of its high walls paneled with reflective glass. Elliot sat at the table which was, with its two chairs, the only furniture. He chuckled softly. "So this is what it feels like to be on the other end."

_Other end of what?_

"Standard first contact procedures," he answered, pointed. "That's one way glass, just like the observation and interrogation room at SGC."

_We are being watched?_

"Count on it, pal. My guess is they're busy trying to dig up somebody like Dr. Jackson to establish communication." His stomach growled. "Hope it's soon, I'm starving."

_Surely not, I believe we could go some little time more without food before being seriously affected. _Lantash objected, sounding alarmed.

"Just an expression. Us tauri are given to exaggeration."

_I see._ Now he sounded bemused. Elliot grinned. The door opened and he stood.

A short, graying man with the widest, brightest eyes Elliot had ever seen outside of a kindergarten came in. He was wearing what looked uncannily like a warm, wooly sweater and carrying a large book which he put down on the table, then gestured for Elliot to sit before lowering himself into the second chair.

"Tek'ma'te," Elliot said politely. The little man made what was obviously an exclamation of surprise. "Kel tol?" (I beg your pardon?)

The other cleared his throat and answered in slow, careful Goa'uldish. "Forgive me, I didn't quite believe the military when they told me you were speaking the Oppressors' Tongue."

"Ah, 'Oppressors'," Elliot grimaced, "good name for them."

_Indeed._

"We've found that most cultures we encounter either speak a derivation of Goa'uldish or retain it as a ritual language." Elliot finished aloud.

The old man opened his book. It consisted of thin sheets of something like plastic with curious signs impressed into rather than printed on them. He ran his finger down the rows of signs muttering to himself.

"Am I talking to fast?" Elliot asked, slowly and politely.

The little man looked up from his dictionary. "Your pronunciation is not - that is I am used to reading rather than speaking the language."

"I was saying that we've found Goa'uldish is pretty widely spoken."

"'We' being the Tauri?"

"That is correct."

"According to our most ancient traditions 'Tauri' is the First World, the Place of Origin."

"Right. We do seem to be the source of all the Human cultures scattered around this Galaxy." Elliot paused again as the linguist scrabbled frantically through his plastic tablets on their ring binding.

"You mean there are other inhabited worlds - many of them?" he demanded excitedly.

"Hundreds," said Elliot simply. The little man seemed stunned. " I'm Lieutenant Kevin Elliot of Stargate Command. What's your name?"

"Oh, I beg your pardon," he flushed in embarrassment. "I am Scholar-First Usser Ashptim."

"Nice to meet you," Elliot said politely.

"Forgive me, I'm confused, what is this 'Stargate Command'."

"That thing in your park is a stargate. Many worlds have one, including Tauri. Stargate Command sends teams through the gate to explore strange new worlds and seek out allies and technology we can use against the Goa'uld."

"Against?" Ashptim echoed. "You _fight_ the Oppressors?"

"We don't have much choice," Elliot said matter of factly. "They're not going to forget Earth - sorry, I mean Tauri - again. It's them or us."

Ashptim looked shocked, not unlike an American scientist who'd just been informed the boogie-man really existed. "But... they're only a legend! Anyway it's been thousands of years since the flight from Babylon if it did happen."

"Good move," said Elliot. "Marduk was a nasty one. Don't worry, he's dead. But there are plenty of other System Lords who are very much alive." He leaned forward, urgently. "Look, there's a major war going on out there. I'm here now because of a battle our side lost. If your people don't want to get involved I understand - in fact I recommend it! All I ask is that you help me send a message through your gate so I can let my people know I'm alive. I go home, you bury your gate and you're out of it."

_Probably, _said Lantash.

'Odds are anyway,' Elliot answered silently.

The little linguist was looking dazed. "Information overload, huh?" Elliot said sympathetically. I know the feeling, believe me!"

"I...I must consult -" he snuck a glance upward at the glass.

Elliot nodded. "Of course," adding as the man rose, "uh, could I get something to eat? It's been a hell of a day."

_Which is no exaggeration!_


	2. Chapter 2

"Lieutenant," the Deputy First For Security said musingly. "You're sure he gave a military rank, Scholar First?.

"Yes." It was Troop Leader First Sargon Ulmesh who answered, his back to the other men in the observation gallery as he looked down through the one-way glass. "He is a soldier. One who's seen combat very recently."

"He said his people had just lost a battle with the Oppressors." Ashptim added, shuffling his notes. "That was toward the end, sir, when he started talking quickly again. I'm not entirely sure I understood him completely but I'm quite clear about his people being at war with the Oppressors."

"Yet he speaks their language," Over-Comander Eniku said, frowning.

"According to Lieutenant Elliot just about everybody 'out there' does. He spoke of hundreds of inhabited worlds -!"

Ulmesh broke into the Scholar's excitement. "He uses a different language when he talks to himself. Listen to him." The other three men joined him at the glass.

Elliot was leaning back in his chair, legs stretched out and eyes closed, speaking softly but fluently. Expressions of amusement, regret, astonishment and interest flickered across his face. His words were fully audible, thanks to the mikes, and totally unfamiliar. The Deputy and the two military officers looked at Ashptim.

The scholar shook his head. "Never heard anything like it in my life."

"But surely if Tauri was our planet of origin his native speech should be similar to ours?" The Deputy said doubtfully.

"Not necessarily, sir," Ashptim answered promptly. "If the Flight is factual history rather than allegory our people were held captive for generations, add the two thousand or so we've been on Nisir and it's more than enough time for language to change beyond recognition."

"Obviously," said Ulmesh dryly.

Over-Commander Eniku frowned frowned down at the subject, or the prisoner, or whatever they were to call their unexpected visitor. "Is he quite right in the head?"

"Oh a great many people think out loud," Ashptim assured him. "I do so myself."

"But do you have lively conversations with yourself?" Ulmesh inquired even more dryly.

All three looked back at the prisoner. They listened for several minutes to what sounded very much like half of a dialog.

"He does seem to be listening and reacting to - to something." Ashptim conceded worriedly.

"An alien soldier from the Place of Origin, at war with the Oppressors and schizophrenic to boot," the Over-Commander said grimly. "It just gets better and better doesn't it?"

The Deputy took a deep breath. "Gentlemen I have the press, the President of the Council and every one of our allies demanding information. What am I supposed to tell them?

That we've got a space traveling madman on our hands?"

"Mention the Oppressors and we'll have panic," Eniku warned.

"I know," the Deputy agreed gloomily.

"Everyone in the park heard him say he was Tauri," Ulmesh said leadingly.

"I suppose we can just confirm that for the moment," the Deputy said without much conviction.

"But is he? We have only his word for it!" said Eniku.

"Speaking personally I would have tried to come up with a more believable lie," Ulmesh observed mildly.

Eniku gave a reluctant grin. "I see your point, Troop-Leader."

"Oh!" they all turned to Scholar Ashptim. "I forgot, he asked for food."

"Better do the medical exam first, we don't want to poison him," said Eniku.

---

Elliot obediently followed Ulmesh through a door. "Right," he took in the equipment scattered around the room. "I was wondering when they'd get around to the medical."

_This may present problems._

"Tell me about it. That sure looks like an X-ray machine, I don't suppose they can miss you - or the naquadah in my blood."

_Definitely not. An explanation will certainly be in order._

'Unfortunately we seem to have lost old Ashptim,' Elliot answered silently, allowing himself to be maneuvered into position on a small platform between two mechanisms. 'Yup, x-ray. We're in trouble now.'

_Just a few more moments..._

'Beg pardon?' Elliot placed his arm on the indicated surface and winced as the needle went home. "Ow."

_I just need a few more exchanges._

'For what?'

_For this. _Lantash's mental voice had a distinctly smug sound.

Suddenly the doctors, or whatever, jabbering away to Ulmesh in front of the x-ray plates were making sense - or as much sense as medical personnel ever made with their jargon.

'Whoa!' said Elliot, impressed. 'How'd you do that?'

_It's a gift._

_----_

"Structurally he seems perfectly normal," the senior medician was telling the Troop Leader. "Except for this whatever it is here -"

"My symbiote. His name is Lantash."

Heads turned all over the room to stare at the alien. Ulmesh's eyes narrowed. "You speak our language?"

"Not till about five seconds ago," Elliot answered, adding to the med-tech drawing blood; "Not meaning to complain but I can only lose three pints or so without ill effect."

"Surely you have enough for your tests, Medician Third," Ulmesh said mildly.

"Yes, yes, of course sir." The green smocked man next to Ulmesh made a signal to the tech who pulled out the needle and pressed a wad of sterile cotton against the puncture. "You were saying - ?"

"Elliot, Lieutenant Kevin Elliot." The alien pulled his jacket back on. "Lantash is why I can suddenly talk your talk, though how he did it -" Elliot paused, seemed to be listening. "Oh. He says he simply matched your phonetics with the various languages in his genetic memory then pulled it to the forefront of his - our - minds."

"Genetic memory," a medician echoed as his colleagues exchanged intrigued glances.

"Yeah," Elliot listened some more. "Because of their life-cycle Tok'ra are unable to instruct their young the way we do, instead they pass on knowledge, skills and even personal memories genetically. Oh, and when you analyze that blood you're going to find an alien element in it, that's normal. And you're going to find blood sugar levels in the basement which isn't. Can I please have something to eat now?"

----

"I apologize for the delay," said Ulmesh.

Elliot swallowed. "I understand, sir. We're careful not to poison our visitors too."

"The medicians are sure that this at least will not disagree with your system," Ulmesh continued, watching bemusedly as the alien put away sticky gray gruel with truly astonishing enthusiasm.

"As a rule we can eat whatever the locals do," Elliot answered between bites. "Genetic drift usually hasn't taken the Diaspora populations that far from Earth-normal."

"Now that the language problem has be resolved perhaps you'd care to explain how and why you've come to us in more detail?" Ulmesh hinted.

"Please!" added Ashptim, who'd joined them in the small, bare holding cell sitting alongside Ulmesh across the table from the alien.

"Yes, sir," Elliot paused in his eating to think. "It's hard to know where to start...Okay, you know about the Goa'uld, the Oppressors as you call them. They came to Tauri - which we call Earth - thousands of years ago and enslaved our common ancestors, claiming to be their gods. Only about four thousand B.C. we kicked their collective asses off our planet and buried our gate so they couldn't come back."

"The Tauri successfully rebelled against the Oppressors?" Ulmesh asked, eyebrows rising.

Elliot shrugged. "Yeah, no idea how we managed it. Apparently they raided us for slaves every so often but never tried to bring us back under control - which is downright weird when you think about it. Eventually they forgot about us altogether. Okay, fast forward a few dozen centuries to about fifty years ago when we accidently uncovered our stargate. It took us decades to figure out how it worked and when we found out what was on the other end our government decided maybe using it wasn't such a good idea. We were all set to put it back in cold storage when a Goa'uld named Apophis used it to kidnap some of our people. We went to get them back and when the dust cleared we were sort of at war with the Goa'uld." He shrugged again, a little apologetically. "That's the short version anyway. We've been fighting them ever since."

"Which brings us to your Stargate Command," Ulmesh prompted.

Elliot nodded. "Yeah. Like I told Scholar Ashptim here, our mission is to look for allies and/or weapons we can use against the Goa'uld. To be honest we haven't found many, just the Tok'ra and the Asgard so far, but we have trade and diplomatic relations with a number of worlds now -"

"Hundreds you said," Ashptim put in eagerly.

"We been to hundreds of worlds," Elliot corrected. "Most are in no position to help us. Our usual advice is to bury their gate and keep their heads down." He hesitated, then continued; "To be honest that doesn't always work. The Goa'uld have space ships as well as the gates but your particular 'god' is dead so odds are nobody remembers you exist."

"You are certain Marduk is dead?" Ashptim asked. "According to tradition the Oppressors were immortal."

"They do take a lot of killing," Elliot agreed ruefully. "But we're sure of Marduk. Seems sometime after you folks left his own priests rebelled against him and trapped him inside a ziggurut. SG-1 and a Russian Team - that's another nation on Earth - broke into it, which wasn't a smart move as it turned out, but they ended up collapsing the ziggurut on top of Marduk so it's pretty safe to assume he's squashed."

Ulmesh looked at the alien consideringly. "Would I be correct in assuming the Tauri have killed other Oppressors?"

"Oh yeah," Elliot answered with astonishing casualness. "Over thirty I think -" he paused to listen to his inner voice, grinned. "Make that thirty-seven, including Zipacna. Seems the Tok'ra have been counting. Mind you we've had to kill some of them three or four times before it took!"

Ulmesh's eyes narrowed thoughtfully on the young man sitting opposite. "You Tauri would seem to be a dangerous lot."

"Thank you, sir. We try." Another uncannily disarming grin. "Lantash says we are insanely reckless and unaccountably lucky." Suddenly the grin vanished. "Not always, pal, not always." The young face went grim and hard.

Oh, yes, Ulmesh thought, Definitely a combat veteran.

"You said you were here because of a battle you'd lost?" Ashptim ventured.

Elliot sighed looking down at his spoon idly drawing patterns in the dregs of his gruel. "More of a pyrrhic victory, sir. The kind of win that costs as much as a defeat." Ulmesh nodded involuntarily. He knew that kind of victory. "The Tok'ra were setting up a new base on a planet called Revanna, they move base regularly as a standard security measure. My team, SG-17, and SG-1 went there to liaise. We were having our usual argument about tactics and goals when the base came under attack from the Goa'uld. The base started collapsing around us." His grip on the spoon tightened, knuckles whitening with the intensity of his contained emotion. "My team, my whole team, was killed. So were most of the Tok'ra. Lantash had lost his last host some time before and his life support unit was damaged, I'd been hit bad myself. A joining seemed the only way to save both our lives, it didn't quite work."

Elliot seemed to realize for the first time he was still holding the spoon. He put it down carefully beside the bowl. Ulmesh saw the steel handle was bent and twisted from the force of the alien's grip and automatically noted that this young man was considerably stronger than he looked.

Elliot breathed out carefully and continued. "We managed to get to the surface, thanks to Lantash's knowledge of Tok'ra technology but it was crawling with Jaffa - that's the System Lords' cannon fodder -"

"The staff-wielders," Ashptim murmured.

"You got it. The situation was bad but we had a weapon, a poison gas canister. The only problem was how to use it without killing ourselves. Lantash and I'd realized we weren't going to make it. We volunteered to cover the others' escape.... the last thing either of us remembers is breaking the canister seal."

"How did you survive?" Ulmesh asked gently.

"Zipacna had a sarcophagus," Elliot answered simply. The two Nisirians looked at him blankly. "That's a powerful healing device. It can even revive the dead, which is one of the reasons Goa'uld are so hard to kill." A faint smile cracked the grim mask of his face. "And how some of us Tauri have managed to die two or three times for our planet. Tok'ra don't let themselves be taken alive. I suppose Zipacna was hoping to revive a few." The alien took a deep breath. "When we came to we were surrounded by dead Jaffa and a very dead Underlord. Lantash remembered this address and we came here - " he paused to listen. "Uh, he says his people had scouted your planet as a possible base a few hundred years ago. They dropped the idea when they realized it was inhabited, but there was no city here then.

Ashptim and Ulmesh exchanged looks. "That must have been over four hundred years ago then," the scholar said. "Er, exactly how old are you - both?"

"I'm twenty-three," Elliot answered. "Lantash is -" his eyes rounded, "Wow, really? Lantash says he's just over three thousand."


	3. Chapter 3

_That went well. _Lantash felt cautious optimism.

His host's answering thought was flavored with irony. Ya think?

_Ah, an O'Neillism._

The Colonel is a lousy influence.

_You are skeptical, Kevin, why? _

Call it ingrained Tauri cynicism. I know humans, Lantash, we can be right bastards.

_That has not been my experience,_ Lantash replied stiffly, offended on behalf of his former hosts.

Yeah, well we can be good guys too. Trouble is it's a toss up which we'll decide to be at any given time.

Lantash was becoming concerned. _Troop Leader Ulmesh and Scholar Ashptim seemed sympathetic._

I agree. I think we've got both pretty solidly on our side, but they're not the ones making the decisions. We're aliens, pal, to some that makes us un-people. There were those back home who wanted to dissect Teal'c you know.

Concern flashed into alarm as Lantash picked up the subtext Kevin tried to hide. _You think my presence has put you in danger! _

Maybe, he conceded. It helps de-humanize me. On the other hand I wouldn't be alive to be in this mess if not for you, that kind of evens it out. Anyway symbiote or no symbiote I'm still from a mythical planet and chock full of valuable technical and military information. There are bound to be some who want to drain me dry.

_Why do I not find that comforting?_

Because it isn't. Kevin sighed, turned onto his side. Look, there's nothing we can do about it at the moment. I don't know about you but they trained me to rest as much as I could in captive situations. Uh - do I sleep or do I kelno'reem? And how exactly do you do that anyway?

_Kelno'reem will not be necessary. _Lantash returned, amused._ You may sleep if you wish, but I believe you will find you need much less than you used to._

So, become a Tok'ra and learn the joys of insomnia eh?

Lantash laughed.

----

Elsewhere the Governing Council of Erech was in the process of justifying Kevin's pessimism. The President and his Deputies sat in their usual places at the long golden table with Troop Leader Ulmesh and Scholar Ashptim at its foot.

"So what you're saying, Scholar First, is that the Tradition is literal fact, war of the gods and all, and it's still going on today," said the President.

"I'm afraid so, sir."

"Meaning that an army of the Oppressors could come through this 'stargate' at any moment," said the Deputy First for Security.

"Lieutenant Elliot considers that unlikely, sir," Ulmesh put in. "Our god is apparently dead and his armies long scattered."

The Deputy for Intelligence steepled his fingers. "This Lantash parasite visited Nisir on a scouting mission four hundred or so years ago. What's to prevent an Oppressor from doing the same?"

Ulmesh grimaced. "Luck?"

"Which will surely run out one day," The Intelligencer pointed out.

"Kevin Elliot advises us to bury our gate to prevent that, sir," said Ashptim.

"He also said that the Oppressors have space travel and could find us that way."

"They've ignored us for two thousand years, sir," said Ulmesh, sensing the direction this was going and not liking it one bit. "No reason why they shouldn't continue to do so."

"Except that one of their enemies is here," the Intelligencer looked at the President. "Even if we send him home as he requests, sir, we may have become a target in this war."

"Assuming they know he's here," Ulmesh argued.

"Dare we assume that they don't? Mr. President, I think it would be extremely unwise to throw away our only source of intelligence on the Oppressors."

"Lieutenant Elliot is a very junior member of the Tauri military," Ulmesh pointed out tightly. "His knowledge will be quite limited."

"His symbiote is three thousand years old," The Intelligencer said flatly.

"Think of the history it has seen," said the Deputy for the Sciences with enthusiasm. "Not to mention the scientific and technological knowledge it must possess. This being knows how to operate the stargate, what else might it know?"

By now Ashptim had caught the drift of the discussion too and was looking alarmed. "Mr. President, I'm sure Kevin Elliot will be willing to answer any questions we might have, he's been most cooperative -"

"And very general," the Intelligencer said dryly. "Specific information may be a different matter, Scholar First."

"Sir," said Ulmesh directly to the President, "Lieutenant Elliot belongs to a military force that routinely kills gods. They are bound to take the restraint of one of their own as an unfriendly act. Making an enemy of the Tauri would be a very bad move."

"He himself has said his people don't know where he is, indeed they believe him killed in action," the Intelligencer countered.

Ashptim's wide, innocent eyes darted from face to face in mounting dismay. "You can't... Please, gentlemen, he's just a boy -"

"A boy in symbiosis with a three thousand year old alien being," the Scientist interrupted. "Not a simple human being, Scholar!"

"One might wonder if he's human at all," the Intelligencer agreed.

Ashptim looked in horror at Ulmesh, and saw by the Troop Leader's grim set face that he saw no hope at all of swaying the Council.

"What can we do?" he demanded desperately of his companion as they left the President's Palace together.

"Nothing," the Troop Leader answered. "We've shown our hand, Scholar, they won't let us near Elliot again."

"But this is wrong!"

"I know." Ulmesh reached into his pocket, fingering Elliot's twisted and bent spoon. "But the Lieutenant isn't as helpless and vulnerable as he looks, Ashptim. He eluded the Oppressors, I suspect he's more then a match for our Intelligence Service."

The Scholar failed to brighten. "I thought we were a better people than this."

"And I feared that we were not."

----

A twig snapped. Kevin's eyes shot to the right side of the clearing, he was too weak to turn his head. A Jaffa stepped out of the trees, staff weapon at the ready and Anubis' mark on his forehead. Kevin's heart began to pound painfully, the blood throbbing in his ears, as more Jaffa appeared. Slowly, cautiously they circled him and drew closer. He tightened his grip on the tiny canister.

_Not yet, _said the voice in his head. _Not till they bring us before Zipacna._

Right. Kevin drew in a deep breath and choked on it. Pain knifed across his lungs as he fought not to cough. The Jaffa loomed over him, very close now, looking down impassively as he struggled to hold himself together.

'Just a little longer, Lantash,' he thought desperately. 'Just a few more minutes.'

_I've done all that I can. You must hang on. We must hang on._

Kevin's lips moved in a silent 'I will' as the Jaffa bent down, cutting off the sky, to lift him.

_KEVIN!_

He woke with a start, soaked in sweat in the unfamiliar dark. "Lantash?"

_I'm here. We're all right. We're safe._

"Safer anyway." He shuddered, heartbeat and respiration falling to normal. "Damned nightmare!"

_I know. I shared it._

"Sorry about that."

_It may be I who should apologize. It is my memory too._

"Tok'ra get flashbacks?"

_Oh yes. _The tone of the thought was grim. _Eventually you will meet my nightmares, Kevin. I have many, too many._

"I can believe that."

A knock on the door of their holding cell made both jump. "Sir? You awake, sir?"

----

Ulmesh knew he would not be permitted to see Elliot alone again, but there was no reason why he couldn't stand in the lobby and watch the boy being handed over to Intelligence. Just why he wanted to do so he wasn't quite sure. To warn Elliot, perhaps?

The boy came out of the lift, surrounded by an armed detail, looking pale and shaken. Ulmesh crossed to him without thinking. The guards, his own men, made no move to stop him. "Are you all right?"

Elliot nodded, his eyes on the black uniforms of the waiting Special Intelligence agents. "Nighmare." He said briefly, then gave Ulmesh a look, half wry half apprehensive. "I'm in trouble aren't I, sir"

"Yes, Lieutenant," he answered heavily. "I'm afraid you are."

Lieutenant Elliot let out a slow sigh. "And this was supposed to be an easy mission!"

Ulmesh saw his eyes flicker back to the Intelligence men, taking in details of weapons, stance and dispersal. Measuring, judging, "Elliot -" he began.

The eyes flashed to him, followed by a tight smile. "Don't worry, sir. I won't do anything foolish."

"Good luck," Ulmesh told him, and meant it with all his heart.


	4. Chapter 4

Ziusudra Mordek, Presidential Deputy for Intelligence, had elected to handle at least the initial stages of the alien's questioning himself. He studied the subject, sitting quietly across the table. The youth and vulnerability that had won Kevin Elliot the championship of Troop Leader Ulmesh and Scholar Ashptim was deceptive. The deliberate relaxation of his body and alertness of the eyes in the impassive face made it plain the alien was trained to resist interrogation, even torture. It would be both faster and more humane to try to induce him to cooperate willingly.

"No doubt you are feeling somewhat aggrieved, Lieutenant Elliot," Mordek began. "I understand your feelings, please try to understand mine."

"I do understand, sir," he answered, surprising Mordek. "If anybody knows what it's like to face a merciless, massively superior enemy it's us Tauri. There are those of us who believe the defense of our world justifies any means, and I can see where they're coming from, but they're wrong. The SGC's policy is to make alliances and trade for technology and material. It's worked pretty well for us and we're a good ally, if I do say so myself."

"Myself," Mordek echoed, taken aback and trying to regain the initiative. "And exactly which self am I talking to, Kevin Elliot of the Tauri or Lantash of the Tok'ra?"

"Kevin Elliot," he answered promptly. "Would you like to talk to Lantash?"

Mordek hesitated only a split second. "Yes, I would."

The alien looked down at his hands, loosely clasped on the table top, then up. Mordek recoiled in involuntary shock. An entirely different personality was looking back at him out of those eyes!

"I am Lantash of the Tok'ra," said the alien, an old smile touched the young face. "In some ways Mr. Mordek, I understand you even better than Kevin does. We Tok'ra have been fighting the Goa'uld a very long time and we are ruthless. Far more so than Kevin or his people know." The face hardened into grim lines. "I am not proud of it, or of some of the things I have done. As Kevin would say, the end does _not_ justify the means -" another brief smile flickered in reaction to something only he could hear. " - or at least not always. I can confirm what Kevin said about the Tauri. They are indeed a good ally; intensely loyal, recklessly courageous and far, far more idealistic than we have become." A bleak and ancient sadness looked out of the youthful eyes. "I had not realized just how cynical we Tok'ra had become - and many of us still don't see it. But we must face the fact that our numbers dwindle and our cause falters. I believe if the Goa'uld are defeated it will be by the Tauri, not the Tok'ra."

----

The 'kawoosh' roared out of the Stargate. The three human members of SG-1, standing in a row in the embarkation room, didn't so much as blink, just waited for the interface to stabilize before walking side by side into the puddle.

This was not going to be a pleasant mission but SG-1 had unaminously volunteered for the follow up to Revenna. Somebody had to find out how the symbiote specific poison had performed and bring Kevin Elliot's body home. Who better than the Team who had left him behind? According to the Tok'ra the poison should have dissipated but Jack O'Neill, by now all too experienced in scientific 'shoulds' had ordered Teal'c to remain at base anyway - just in case.

Carter waved the doo-hicky the Tok'ra had given her at arms length, frowning in concentration. "No reading, sir."

"That's good, right?"

"Yes, sir," she switched off the thingy and tucked it in a vest pocket.

"No bodies," Daniel observed.

"Ground zero should be click or so thataway," Jack pointed.

Ten minutes later: "'Nough bodies for you, Daniel?" the archaeologist didn't answer, he was too busy trying not to hurl.

Carter was less squeamish. She picked her way through the semi-liquid remains to the all to familiar shape of a sarcophagus and looked inside. "Empty, sir."

Jack was looking at the bodies. Lots of Jaffa, one thoroughly dead Snake - "No Elliot."

Carter picked up something near her feet. "The canister, sir. They looked at each other over the carrion. "If Lieutenant Elliot was put into the sarcophagus just after triggering the poison -"

"He'd survive," Daniel finished, still keeping his distance. "But where is he?"

"Would you hang around here?" Jack asked, and gnawed a considering lip. "He couldn't get home without a GDO, does he know any other addresses?"

"I doubt it, sir. But Lantash would."

Yeah, right. Not only had they left the boy behind, they'd let him be snaked. Great. "Okay, kids, time to phone home."

-----

Teal'c walked out of the puddle followed by SG-13; Schaeffer and Carrillo in those stupid green berets; Kennedy the team geek; and Jack's favorite Snake. That wasn't sarcasm, he genuinely liked Liorin - it wasn't the poor guy's fault that he'd been born a parasite. And yes there was a definite irony in the fact that the _only_ Tok'ra Jack really trusted was a reformed System Lord. Life's funny that way.

"So, Liorin, you gonna tell us where Lantash went?"

SGC's resident Snake habitually avoided the special effects, not wanting to creep out his human colleagues, but nobody ever had any trouble telling when he was driving as opposed to his teenaged host. "Unfortunately no, Jack. But I can give you a short list of possible destinations."

"How short?"

"Eight."

"Eight!"

"Don't complain, Colonel, it could have eighty," put in Schaeffer.

"Or eight hundred," added Carrillo.

Liorin shook his head grimly. "We don't have anything like that many safe worlds left."

"Safe world," Jack echoed. "Like a safe house?"

"Yes, sir." That was Carter, wearing the funny faraway look she got when she was dipping into memories that weren't her own. "Worlds unsuitable for use as a base but designated as emergency destinations and cached with survival and communications gear."

"That's right, Sam," Liorin looked at her with interest. "Any suggestions as to which Lantash might have chosen?"

She shook her head. "Sorry, no."

The Tok'ra shrugged. "Never mind, even if Jolinahr were here I suspect she'd have to guess just as I do. One more thing, Jack, Lantash could have revived at any time over the past three or four days. The fact that we haven't heard from him -"

"Means he and Elliot have most likely walked into more trouble," Jack finished for him.

Liorin shrugged a little ruefully. "The way our luck's been running lately..."

"Right," Jack could only agree. One disaster after another. Damn. That put the cabosh on splitting up. "Okay, then, listen up boys and girls: We keep together, it'll take longer but we may need all the firepower we can get. Be ready for trouble. Liorin, spin the wheel and let's see what we get."

"It'll be the last one," Kennedy said to Carter. "It's always the last one."

"Quiet in the ranks," Jack ordered, silently conceding she was right.

-----

"Well that wasn't too bad," Kevin murmured to his other half, folding his arms behind his head as they reclined on yet another hard bunk. "Of course they haven't hit their stride yet."

_I am not prepared to share technical information._ Lantash warned.

"Doubt it would do them much good if you did," his host replied. "From what I've seen I'd place their technological level at least fifty years behind ours. They're still using vacuum tubes for Pete's sake!"

_Who is this Pete anyway?_

"Say what?"

_The Pete whose name you keep invoking. A deity of some kind?_

Kevin laughed. "Hell no! At least I don't think so. It's just an expression, I don't know where it came from."

_Sometimes I think Tauri are insane._

"You know we are! But this one isn't crazy enough to hang around here. It's not so much Mordek as the mad scientist crew. They might do anything."

_I agree escape would be wise. Suggestions?_

"What, they don't teach escapology in Tok'ra training camp?" Kevin teased. He'd already given their cell a quick scan. "I don't see any cameras, and they won't have motion sensors at this level of technology, but I'm willing to bet they've got a mike on us and you saw that big humping surveillance camera covering the hall. But that door's a simple deadbolt."

_I will be able to help with that._

"Oh?"

_Let us just say you are considerably stronger than you once were, Kevin._

"Oh, ho!" He looked at the door. "You mean I can do a Steve Austin?"

_Steve Austin -? I won't even ask!_

"Please don't," Kevin smirked. "It would take way to long to explain. Okay, door taken care of but that camera means we're going to be spotted right off. We'll probably have to fight our way out of here."

_Consider that your department._

"Come on, they don't teach you guys hand to hand either? What kind of training do you get?"

_Languages, stealth technology, infiltration techniques, how to deal with smart mouthed hosts -_

"Okay, okay I get it. You're the brains, I'm the brawn. Now that's settled.. I'm afraid we'll have trouble fitting in. I'm a bit lighter skinned than most of the locals and my eyes are the wrong color."

_A rare color perhaps but not unknown. I spotted at least three other personnel with hazel or green eyes and several as fair skinned as you, Kevin._

"Really? How, when?

_I don't nap when you are in charge of the body, Kevin. I observe and analyze._

"A regular Sherlock Holmes, huh - don't ask!"

_I wouldn't dream of it._

Kevin looked at his watch. "No telling what the local time is but I suspect they've let up on us because it's getting late."

_A legitimate deduction, _Lantash agreed, and carefully did not ask why his host found that simple statement hilarious.

"So," Kevin said, recovering. "We give 'em a few hours to settle down for the night, then make our move."

_Very well._


	5. Chapter 5

Kevin Elliot settled himself in a seat of the rail car that seemed to be Nisir's version of mass-transit and started to go through the contents of the belt pouch he'd 'liberated'.

_That was...very impressive._

'What?' Kevin sub-vocalized absently, most of his mind on the square coins in assorted sizes. 'Oh, the escape. Thanks, but we sure were out on the time estimate weren't we?' Far from being the black before the dawn the amount of activity on the darkened streets indicated a fairly early hour, well before the local version of midnight anyway.

_I noted a certain...restraint._

'Standing Orders, non-lethal force so far as possible against Diaspora humans. We are looking for allies you know.' The odd texture of Lanatash's emotions finally penetrated Kevin's preoccupation. 'What's eating you, pal?'

_Eating me? Oh, another 'expression'. Really, this Tauri vernacular of yours. I am very impressed, Kevin. Or perhaps nonplussed would be a better word. I know I told Mordek you Tauri are formidable but I hadn't quite applied that generality to you._

'Excuse me? Well you've been hanging out with SG-1, I'm not in their class.'

_You are not far short of it, Kevin. You incapacitated the five personnel stationed in the monitor room in 72 seconds._

'I did?' Kevin couldn't help being a little impressed himself. 'Wow. Put it down to adrenalin I guess. Mind I always did get top marks in unarmed.'

_I can believe that._

'Good thing too. If I hadn't taken them down fast one would have sounded the alarm and I doubt we'd have gotten out.'

_I wonder, _said Lantash.

Kevin shut the pouch. "As it is we're sitting pretty. We've got a head start, civilian clothes, some money and whatever's in the suitcase. It should be easy to blend in.'

_You think?_

Kevin chuckled leaning back in the seat. 'Yeah, I do. We can pose as a visitor from some other part of this globe - that's why I grabbed the suitcase - which'll help cover up our unfamiliarity with the local customs. I don't suppose you can help there?'

_Not really, Kevin. _

'Just asking.'

-----

Trooper Second Avah Meshak opened his eyes with a groan, the room swam. Gradually his security board came into focus, especially the big orange alarm button. What the - memory returned jerking him upright in the chair, sending shooting pain radiating down his back from the neck. Somebody had hit him! He groped for the button and pressed it.

----

Kevin Elliot climbed off the third rail car of the evening and started down the street, suitcase swinging.

_I suppose you have a reason for all these changes?_

'I'm confusing our trail," he responded, surprised. "Come on, that's basic.'

_You think they will deduce we exited Intelligence headquarters and climbed on a 'bus'?_

'Maybe not, but better safe then sorry.'

_Ah, what Jacob calls 'tactical paranoia'._

Kevin laughed softly, 'General Carter went to the same school I did - literally.'

_Yes, this 'Airforce Academy' of yours. Kevin, I think this is a residential are._

'I think you're right.' The street was lined with low one or two story buildings right up against sidewalk, with small, high windows and doors marked with the funny wedge-like writing they used here. House numbers?

Light streamed from an open door about midway down the street and as he came abreast it Kevin caught the sound of voices from within. A large sign was posted on the blank wall under the little windows. 'Can you read that, pal?'

_Not easily....it seems to be saying something about rooms to let._

'A boarding house? Just the thing.' Kevin knocked on the open door. The voices continued on, apparently not hearing. He went in.

The short hall made a dogleg into a large space furnished as a combined sitting and dining room. Several people were grouped at the foot of a stair in the corner; a kid of ten or twelve at bay on the landing besieged by a pack of grown ups. A youngish woman in a glittery dress was talking:

" - should have been in bed asleep!"

"I dunno, Asha," put in the man nearest to her with a grin. "I'd sit up if my mom were out with a character like me." He shot a wink at the kid.

"Aw, it's not that Mr. Lugal, but she's got to get up early for work tomorrow."

"And she needs her beauty sleep," the lady's date agreed grinning broadly.

She sputtered as the other men and older woman standing around listening laughed. The woman patted her arm. "Best quit while you're behind, dear. These two are too much for any sensible woman."

Asha laughed along with the rest and started up the steps taking her son firmly by the shoulder. "All right, we'll both go to bed. Goodnight, Nim, goodnight all."

The other woman turning away and caught sight of Kevin standing hesitantly in the doorway. Her startled little gasp drew the attention of the entire party. He stepped further into the light. "Excuse me, the door was open. I'm looking for a room?"

The Landlady's expression changed from near alarm to businesslike interest. "Of course, sir. And how long to you expect to be staying in our city?"

---

"Sir! Sir!" Sargon Ulmesh opened bleary eyes to blink up at his sergeant. "It's the alien, sir, he's escaped! Deputy Mordek wants all troops turned out for a full sweep of the city.

Ulmesh hid his grin behind a yawn. "That's going to attract attention."

"He doesn't seem to care, sir."

---

Breakfast was what smelled like bacon, even if it came in blocks rather than strips, and long, twisted sticks of bread. Imitating his fellow boarders Kevin broke off a bite sized piece and sopped it in pork drippings. 'These people have clearly never heard of chloresterol.'

_I have. Don't worry, I'll take care of it._

'I wasn't worried.' Kevin took an experimental sip of thick glop everybody else was drinking. 'What the -'

_Fermented grain product, very low alcohol content, but lots of fiber._

'I could tell.'

"Government spokesmen continue to deny reports the alien has escaped custody and is on the loose," said the radio in the corner "Troop movements throughout the city are being explained as part of a planned drill."

"Anybody believe that?" muttered a middle aged fellow boarder around his mug.

Their landlady, Mrs. Unat, snorted. "What kind of fools do they think we are?"

'Not doing a very good job of keeping me quiet, are they?' Kevin thought ruefully to his symbiote. Then said aloud; "Alien?"

Everybody looked at him. "You didn't hear?" young Bilsham Sunun asked eagerly. "He appeared out of thin air in Tumhal park. He claimed he was a Tauri!"

"Tauri indeed!" That was Mrs. Unat again. "He comes from right here on Nisir, if you ask me - and you know from where!" Her boarders all nodded.

A new voice came on the radio, some kind of commentator. He seemed pretty upset. "This creature's sudden appearance and its laughably easy escape from our Intelligence service indicate it possesses powers far beyond our measure. What are it's intentions? Erech, all of Nisir, is in acute danger while our government plays games with the people. Do they think we're children? Can they not be honest with us about the threat? Whatever the peril Erech will face it with courage and resource! Wherever this alien thing may be and whatever it is plotting we can take it!"

"More beer, Mr. Lakamar?" the landlady asked her latest boarder with a smile.

"Uh, no thanks, I'm good." Kevin answered.

----

Jack gasped and sputtered as a strong arm hoisted him out of the water filled hole by the scruff of his BDUs. Teal'c, of course it was Teal'c, retained his hold until he was sure Jack had found firm footing in the hip deep water.

He accepted a bandana from a smirking Daniel, wiped the wet and some kind of kelp off his face then glared around at his comrades in arms. Schaeffer and Carrillo were working a little to hard at _not _smirking but Carter and Kennedy had abandoned all attempt at self control and were hanging on to each other in gales of giggles.

"Near drowning is _not _funny, Carter!" Jack snapped.

"No, sir," she wheezed.

"It's -it's the way Teal'c hauled you out by the scruff of the neck..." Kennedy's 'sir' was lost in a new fit of giggles.

Jack ostentatiously turned his back on the two of them to give their surroundings another disgusted look over. The Stargate was half submerged in the salty waters of what was most likely a tidal mere. There was nothing but gray water and gray sky as far as the eye could see.

"Sea levels seem to have risen since the Tok'ra's last visit."

"Ya think?" Jack swung around on Liorin or rather, as his big grin proclaimed, Sheftu the seventeen year old host.

"Liorin says you have his sincere apologies," the boy continued.

"Yeah, tell him to come out and say that!"

"He's afraid to."

Schaeffer gave a smothered snort and turned his back to hide the laughter shaking his shoulders.

Look on the bright side, Jack, your near drowning sure has raised morale. "Anyway, if our wandering boy did come here he wouldn't hang around." The faces around him sobered. Five worlds and no sign of Elliot on any of them. Jack was beginning to wonder if the kid had decided to stay on Revanna, maybe gone back to what was left of the Tok'ra tunnels. Three worlds to go... "Dial the SGC, Daniel. We need dry clothes and a hot meal. Who knows, maybe the Tok'ra have heard something."


	6. Chapter 6

The living area of Mrs. Unat's lodging house was furnished with square, overstuffed chairs, a heavily cushioned divan and a number of small, low tables. There were many decorative plants and an astonishing dearth of reading material. What Kevin had first taken for books proved to be albums of glass plates, mostly black and white but some in color.

Lantash had a theory: _The writing system is ideographic rather than alphabetic, as is yours. Such a system lends itself to a two tiered society of the literate and illiterate._

'You're kidding,' Kevin was more than a little shocked. 'Is it possible to have an advanced industrial culture without widespread literacy?'

_Oh yes. No doubt the generality of citizens are numerate and have a modest vocabulary of common symbols - such as those indicating hired lodgings on the sign outside._

Kevin closed the book of plates he was holding. 'Maybe that's why they never bothered to invent paper.'

"Hey, Mr. Lakamar."

Kevin looked up startled, to see Mrs. Unat's youngest boarder in the doorway. "Bilsham? Why aren't you in school?"

"They closed it," the boy answered, tossing his satchel onto the divan. "On account of the alien."

_Oh now really!_

'Indeed!' "Kind of overreacting aren't they? I mean he's only one man."

"Yeah but he's an _alien_. He has all kinds of powers and stuff. I heard he blasted Intelligence HQ to the ground!"

'Oh boy.'

_Mass hysteria is not a good thing._

'Ya think? Damn. We better resolve this fast.' "Bil, how would I find a Scholar First named Usser Ashptim?"

"Friend of yours?"

"Just about the only person I know in Erech," Kevin answered honestly.

"Well, if he's a scholar the University is the place to start."

----

Young Bil wasn't at all afraid to go out, in fact he seemed eager to witness at first hand whatever death and destruction the alien should unleash. A Typical kid in other words; Kevin knew he would have been just the same at his age.

There was a troop of soldiers at the end of the street, ranged around what looked uncannily like an open manhole. "They must be searching the sewers!" Bil said enthusiastically.

"Ugh!" Kevin made a face. "Why'd the alien go down there?"

"To _spawn_!"

_I resemble that remark!_

Kevin choked back a laugh as the boy continued with unabated gusto: "There'll be millions and millions of aliens and we'll fight 'em. The streets'll run with blood. What color blood do you think they'll have?"

"Red."

_Blue. Kevin, is this - this - bloodthirst - really normal in an immature male human?_

'Oh yeah. Trust me on this.'

The rail car system took them into the city center. They disembarked at a familiar park. "Come on," said Bil, tugging at Kevin's arm "Let's see what's going on at the ring."

The stargate had disappeared behind a high metal fence which, Kevin was prepared to bet was electrified. It was also surrounded by soldiers and what looked like the Nisirian version of tanks.

'Oh hell," thought Kevin.

_Indeed, _thought Lantash.

A large number of Bil's fellow citizens stood at a safe distance, waiting for something to happen. A man with a microphone in one hand and a suitcase sized recorder in the other moved through the crowd getting reactions.

"And how about you, sir?" he asked Kevin brightly. "Are you frightened too?"

"I'm beginning to be," he answered a little grimly.

_Me too._

"You don't look scared," Bil observed as they moved out of the crowd towards yet another rail stop.

"Don't I?" he answered dryly. "Can't think why not."

_I agree with young Bil, your emotional control is admirable, Kevin._

'Thanks.'

----

The university proved to be a low, rambling mass of masonry full of windy passages opening unexpectedly into wide, tree planted courtyards. The porter's directions to Ashptim's rooms were long and complicated and Kevin let Bil lead the way while he kept a wary eye out for watchers.

_You seriously believe there could be surveillance set on Scholar Ashptim? _Lantash asked curiously.

'Sure, that's what we would do. On the other hand we wouldn't be searching the sewers.'

_Why ever not?_

'Because in our experience very few intelligent species voluntarily hang out with organic waste.'

Lantash chuckled._ Very true._

To Kevin's eye the only difference between Usser Ashptim's room and a SGC geek's lab was the lack of paper. However plastic paged, ring bound 'books' were piled everywhere, mostly open, and the little scholar was sitting on the floor bent over a stone slab and surrounded by yet more books.

Kevin cleared his throat. No reaction. "Scholar Ashptim!"

The old man looked up and eyes and mouth both dropped open. "Kevin Elliot!"

----

Gate travel did interesting things to the human diurnal rhythm. After four or five hours sleep Jack O'Neill's stomach was insisting it was breakfast time. The clock on the commissary wall said 0100 hrs. and the four members of SG-12 - the only other people in the room - were working on what was clearly their dinner. Jack accepted a box of cornflakes, carton of milk and cinnamon bun from the sleepy server and found himself a table.

On the other side of the room Axsel Reilly, SG-12's 2IC, was holding forth loudly: "-why every green-skinned space babe we meet looks right through me and makes a beeline for Colonel Castleman. What's he got that I haven't got?"

"Killer blue eyes and general silver foxiness," Zoey Tibbetts answered promptly. Steve Castleman's fork froze midway between plate and mouth as said orbs fixed disbelievingly on his team geek. "Not to mention the whole ass-kicking vibes he's got going," she continued blithely, apparently unaware of the rapidly thinning metaphorical ice.

Reilly's mouth opened and closed a couple of times before he got out a rather whiney; "I kick ass!"

Aviva, SG-12's other female member and resident alien was sitting next to Reilly and patted him consolingly on the arm. "You are indeed a formidable warrior, Axsel, but you do not - yet - have the aura maturity and command have given to our colonel, and to Colonel O'Neill as well -"

"Hey, leave me out of this!" Jack interrupted in lively alarm from his table.

Castleman emitted a warning growl. "Enough!"

Zoey either didn't hear or didn't heed. "Yeah, that's it exactly. Power is sexy and the colonel just oozes power -"

"I said enough! This conversation is over."

Zoey looked adorably hurt and about twelve years old. "I was just answering Axsel -"

Castleman raised a warning finger and she shut her mouth.

"Perhaps it would have been wiser to treat it as a rhetorical question," Aviva said thoughtfully before being glared silent in her turn.

Jack addressed himself to his cereal reflecting, yet again, that you didn't have to be crazy to work at the SGC - but it sure helped. Sheftu/Liorin's entrance broke the ensuing sticky silence, attracting SG-12's attention as well as Jack's.

"Anything from the Tok'ra?"

Sheftu - it was still Sheftu - shook his head sliding into the seat opposite Jack. "Sorry, not a word."

"Damn. And Liorin's still hiding?" The kid grinned. "Coward!."

"That's what I told him," Sheftu agreed cheerfully. Adding, "Here're the others," as the rest of SG-1 and SG-13 got tangled in the doorway with SG-12 on their way out.

Jack waited for everybody to get their food and settle around the table before issuing his orders for the day. "Okay, boys and girls, we eliminate the three remaining possibilities and if none of them pan out check Revanna again. Elliot and Lantash may have decided to go back to the tunnels."

Sheftu looked dubious. "Personally I'd have put some light years between me and the massacre."

"Me too," said Daniel thoughtfully. "But there's no telling what a person might do under stress."

"Could somebody else have gotten to Elliot and Lantash before us?" Schaeffer blurted abruptly, like he'd been worrying about that possibility for some little time.

"Let's not borrow trouble," said Jack, who'd had a stray thought or two in that direction himself. "First let's make sure where he isn't, then we'll worry about who else might have got him."


	7. Chapter 7

"You're the alien!" young Bil's expression was a complicated collage of shock and disappointment. "But - but - you're supposed to have fangs! - and tentacles!"

"Sorry," Kevin ginned.

"You're just like a regular human being," the boy practically wailed.

"I am a regular human being, except I was born on Tauri not Nisir," Kevin shrugged.

"And for the symbiote," said Ashptim.

"Oh, right. Now Lantash, he's a real alien. A sort of eel-like creature about yeh long -" Kevin measured with his hands "- wrapped around my spinal cord and brain stem."

"Yech!" said Bil, brightening visibly.

_Thank you very much!_

'Shush' "And he bleeds blue and has this weird element in his blood," Kevin continued with gusto. "And look what he can do," 'Cue special effects.'

_What? Oh._ Kevin's eyes flashed.

"Oh, wow! That is so cool!" Bil exclaimed happily.

"And he is three thousand years old," Ashptim put in, clearly intrigued. "There are a few questions I'd like to ask -"

"And Lantash will be glad to answer them once we've got this business settled." Kevin said firmly.

Ashptim's face fell. "Yes. I apologize for my people, Kevin. I am ashamed of us."

"Don't be. Mine would be no different, I promise, " Kevin said reassuringly. "I want to reopen communications with your leaders, Ashptim, but not as their prisoner. Will you be my go-between?"

"Of course!"

Kevin raised a warning hand. "It could be dangerous."

"I realize that," old Ashptim said with dignity.

"Sorry, of course you do." Kevin thought. "Like I said before all I want is access to the gate so I can contact my people. Deputy Mordek's security concerns are legitimate and I what I said about an alliance stands -"

"Excuse me, Kevin, but do you really have the authority to commit your people in such a way?" Ashptim interrupted.

"Yes I do," he answered matter-of-factly. "I may be pretty junior but I am a member of an accredited SG-Team and so fully authorized to negotiate alliances and trade deals." He grinned. "I know it sounds crazy, but it's true."

---

"I have good news for you, Colonel O'Neill," General Hammond said as SG-1 and SG-13 settled into their places around the briefing table.

"I could use some, sir."

"We've managed to clear four hours of gate use for your project."

Jack brightened. Continuing the search from base meant they could use the MALP meaning -

"No more getting in over your head, Jack." Sheftu - no, Liorin - said grinning.

Jack glared across the table. "Finally dared to show your snaky butt eh?"

"If I am not safe from retaliation in General Hammond's presence I am safe nowhere."

Said general gave a long suffering sigh. "Gentlemen."

Even Jack knew better than to say anything but "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir," in meek chorus with Liorin.

A couple of techs set up a monitor on the briefing table. People got themselves coffee or whatever and all settled in for several hours of viewing pleasure. Only it wasn't - a pleasure that is.

Watery reflections danced over the ceiling from the embarkation room below as the gate engaged the first set of coordinates. The MALP rolled forward into the puddle and the screen disolved into static - then went black.

The general just beat Jack to the button. "Control, we've lost picture up here."

"Sir, I think we've lost the MALP," the com answered. "One moment, sir." clicking sounds like somebody was trying his buttons and switches, then: "Sorry, sir, destruction of MALP confirmed. It must have hit something just beyond the even horizon, like our iris."

"Thank you, control. Proceed to next address." As the monitor screen fizzed back to life Hammond finished quietly; "Let us hope Lieutenant Elliot did not pick that particular destination."

Jack hoped he didn't look as sick as some of the others did.

---

"What do we do now?" Bil asked eagerly as they left the University.

"Well, what do you say you show me around Erech?" Kevin suggested.

"Sure!"

Their first stop was a white marble ziggerut surrounded by formal gardens. It was a long climb to the little pillared temple at the top and inside was the stylized, columnar stature of a bearded man. The most lifelike thing about him was the deep, sad eyes that seemed to look right into you. Its presence and the aura of the place struck Kevin as familiar.

'It's like the Lincoln memorial at home.'

_Lincoln? Is he one of your gods?_

'Not hardly. He was a president, one of our great leaders. His monument is a lot like this one only not so many stairs.' "Mind if we step outside, Bil? I don't feel I can sit down in front of him." Kevin motioned towards the statue.

"I know what you mean." They went out onto the terrace and found a bench with a great view over the city. Young Bil seemed to be thinking hard. "So, what you're saying is that the Tradition is all true; Ziusudra really did defy a false god and fight him with magical fire weapons and bring us to Nisir through a portal?"

"Must have." Kevin glanced over his shoulder at the still carven face with its deep eyes, just visible through the pillars screening the front of the monument. "Let me tell you I'm impressed. It would have taken one hell of a guy to pull all that off. I wish he was still around, he'd have made us quite an ally."

Bil was still struggling with a major paradigm shift. "They always told us the Tradition was all symbolic and allegorical."

'Well it has been two thousand years." Kevin nodded back towards the statue. "Who knows, maybe that's the way he'd have wanted it."

The great Erech National Cemetary lay in the shadow of Ziusudra's ziggurat, innumerable curving lines of low, white stone tables on green grass, inscribed with names and dates, some decorated with flowers.

"So this Nineveh is where Mrs. Unat thinks I - the alien that is - came from?" Kevin said to Bil as they walked the rows.

The boy nodded. "Or one of the other Cities of the Hills. "We're not exactly at war, at the moment anyway, but they're always spying on us or trying to make trouble for the Plains Cities."

Kevin nodded grimly. "Cold War. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt."

_What?_

"What?"

"I mean my people have had the same kind of problem," Kevin explained. He grinned wryly. "Major Mansfield used to say the reason we Tauri are so good at solving other people's problems is because we've done it all ourselves."

_Wise from experience?_

'At least we learned from our mistakes.'

"Here," Bil stopped at one of the tables. "This is where my Dad is buried. He was killed in the last war."

Kevin put a hand on his shoulder. "We've got a place like this too. We call it Arlington. My mom is buried there."

Bil gaped up at him. "Your mom was killed in a war?"

Kevin nodded. "She was a pilot."

"Your mom was a soldier?" Bil repeated incredulously.

Kevin grinned a little. "Oh yeah. You people haven't had women's lib yet have you?"

"Women's what?"

"Lib, short for 'liberation'," Kevin explained. "Twenty or so years before I was born the women on my planet decided they were tired of watching us men run things and insisted on taking their turn."

Bil looked rattled. "That's weird!"

"Well, they had a point," Kevin shrugged. "It took some getting used to but we men have pretty much adjusted to it by now."

Young Bil was clearly unconvinced. "Mom had to get a job after Dad died. If she marries Mr. Lugal she'll be able to stay home and we can have our own house again."

"What does she do?" Kevin asked, interested.

"I'll show you!"

Kevin had no trouble recognizing a movie theater lobby when Bil dragged him inside but the stuff they were selling instead of popcorn was more difficult to identify. 'Some kind of trail-mix I think,' he said silently to his other half after a cautious taste of the roast grain and dried fruit filling the paper cup Bil shoved into his hand.

_Ridiculously high sodium level_, Lantash said disapprovingly.

'Well of course. Healthy munchies is a contradiction in terms!'

"C'mon!" Bil led the way through a heavily curtained entrance to the darkened theater, they found seats near the back. Black and white images of city and countryside and marching men were projected on the big screen while a voice talked about troop movements and borders and political tensions.

"I get it, a sort of newreel," Kevin said. "Your mom's a reporter?"

"No, a news writer. That's how she met Mr. Lugal, he's a cameraman."

"Cool." Kevin watched the news with growing concern. 'Damn. We seem to have destabilized the whole planet!"

_Our arrival has certainly contributed to an already tense international situation_. Lantash agreed grimly.

Suddenly the scene changed, becoming the familiar view of the park and the cordon around the stargate. Light glowed above the fence showing the gate was engaged. Kevin sat forward, watching tensely as a familiar angular metallic shape appeared in the opening, then winced as it vanished in a flash and boom as the tanks opened fire.

"Oh wow!" Young Bil was clearly impressed.

'Hell and Damn!' "I think we'd better be getting home, kid. I really got to talk to Scholar Ashptim."

----

The MALP rolled into the puddle for the third time. Jack watched, almost uninterested, already planning a return to Revanna. The monitor screen cleared showing the MALP had emerged into some kind of fenced enclosure with a gap directly opposite the gate. It rolled forward, jolting slightly over uneven ground . Jack leaned forward tensely; those looked like armed men, and maybe some kind of artillery - then the screen whited out.

"Sir! MALP destroyed!" said control.

"Bingo," said Jack.


	8. Chapter 8

The embarkation room was unusually full, SG-12 having been added to the mix, everywhere you looked there were people checking the clips of their M249s, adjusting ammunition belts and pulling helmet straps tight.

"Keep in touch, Colonel O'Neill," said Hammond's voice from above.

"You've got it, sir," he answered the air. "Engage MALP," it rolled slowly up the ramp and into the puddle. "Right, people, follow me."

They emerged on the other side and fanned out quickly, avoiding line of sight from the gap in the metal barrier around the gate as much as possible.

"Sir," Carter was consulting her UTD, "This fence is electrified."

Jack nodded, unsurprised. That's what he'd have done. "Fix it." She opened her mouth. "_Don't_ tell me how, just do it!" Carter shut her mouth, looking a little annoyed, and called Kennedy and Reilly into a huddle around the MALP. Jack nodded to Liorin. "You're on."

He adjusted the ribbon device wrapped around his right hand and advanced into the fence, left hand raised palm outward in the near universal sign for peace and parley. He didn't get past the 'come' in 'we come in peace'. Bullets ricocheted off his personal shield pinging against the steel fencing or burying themselves in the ground around him. These folks were definitely not interested in talking.

Liorin raised his right hand and a red beam lanced out from the jewel in the palm Jack couldn't see what it was doing but all the yelling suggested it was having the desired effect. The Tok'ra fell back to the gate. "Heat beam," he explained briefly. "Took care of the weapons of the first row and those tanks."

"Great." Now was the time to move, while they were still in disorder. "Carter, you ready?"

"Yessir!"

"Okay, everybody, form a circle and drop," his command spread out as ordered. "Carter." She did something to the MALP's exposed engine. The fence sparked and somewhere outside it something exploded. "Liorin." He raised the ribbon device and a kinetic wave spread out, over the lowered heads of the teams to flatten the fence.

They didn't need an order. In an instant everybody - including Carter, Liorin and Jack himself - were on their feet and advancing in an expanding globe, firing a steady stream of bullets into the ground just short of the opposition's feet, which were busy fleeing. There was a lot of screaming going on - civilians? - as the green, park-like terrain rapidly emptied of everybody but themselves.

---

Kevin and Bil found a worried looking Ashptim waiting in Mrs. Unat's living room, along with a near frantic Mrs. Sunun and her boyfriend Lugal. She immediately ran to her son and started shaking him.

"Bilsham Sunun! Where have you been? You should have come straight home!"

"I did," he protested jerkily. "I've been showing Mr. Lakamar around the city."

"It's all my fault, Mrs. Sunun," Kevin put in quickly. "I had no idea how serious the situation was until we stopped in at a Newsie." He looked at Ashptim. "Why the hell did they have to fire on the MALP?"

"The what?" the Scholar said blankly.

"The machine that came through the Stargate. It's nothing but a mobile lab but it can't be coincidence that my people suddenly decide to investigate this particular planet. Somehow they've figured out that I'm here -"

"Your people?" Mr. Lugal interrupted, staring.

"Mr Lakamar is the alien," Bil said proudly.

"Don't be ridiculous -" his mother began.

"No really!" the boy interrupted. He turned to Kevin. Show her what you can do."

"I'm afraid it's true, Mrs. Sunun," Scholar Ashptim put in quickly.

"Do the thing with the eyes!" Bil insisted.

'Cue special effects.'

_You really think -?_

'Yes. We don't have time for complicated explanations.' His eyes flashed.

Mrs. Sunun gave a little scream and clutched her son to her. Lugal came to his feet assuming a protective stance in front of them while Ashptim stepped quickly between him and Kevin. "He's not hostile! We're the ones behaving badly, not Kevin!"

"I never meant to make all this trouble," he agreed grimly. "I'd never have come here if I'd known what I was walking into."

Lugal relaxed slightly. "I got to admit taking up residence in boarding house isn't what I'd expect of an alien invader."

"I'm not an invader, I'm a refugee." Kevin answered. "I want to put a stop to this panic before things get out of hand -" A siren wailed in the distance, answered by another and then another, the frightening sound getting closer and louder as more joined in.

Ashptim gasped. "The city is under attack!"

Kevin closed his eyes.

_I think things just got out of hand._

_----_

SG-4 and SG-10 walked out of the puddle, Dana Sinclair of SG-4 in the lead. "How are we doing?" she asked.

"Pretty good," Jack answered. "The enemy's fallen way back and formed a new cordon around this whole park, we've got say ten or twelve acres of cover all to ourselves here."

"Not very smart tactics," she observed.

"I think we got 'em spooked. I don't want to get rough but we may have no choice. Trouble is they won't _talk._"

"Definitely not smart," Dana said dryly. She looked over his shoulder at a group of men in unfamiliar uniforms sitting on the ground with Daniel, Liorin and Zoey Tibbetts of SG-12 gathered round them. "Prisoners?"

"Yeah. We're having communication trouble, they don't speak Goa'uld." Jack looked beyond her at SG-4 and SG-10s language geeks. "Lee, Padre, why don't you see if you can help."

The tall Jesuit and small archaeologist descended the steps from the gate and moved to join their colleagues around the prisoners. Leah Jenner frowned pointedly at Liorin. "That," she said, meaning the ribbon device, "is mine."

"And you're welcome to it!" He stripped it off and passed it over. "Who ever heard of a right handed device?"

"Me," she said, sliding it on. "I'm a lefty. So what've we got?"

"Sounds like Akkadian," Daniel answered, "but there's been some drift."

Father Tarrant hunkered down next to him and Daniel handed over his notes. Semitic languages were the Padre's specialty.

----

Sargon Ulmesh studied the aliens surrounding him with slightly bemused interest. The variations in coloring were striking enough, ranging from much darker than Nisirian norm to eerily lighter. Two or three had pale yellow hair and several had eyes of a shockingly alien blue. Even more startling was the presence of women among them, dressed in exactly the same baggy mottled green uniforms and carrying weapons, including two who were far too small and delicately made for soldiers, at least in Ulmesh's opinion. Of course Kevin Elliot was considerably stronger than his appearance suggested, presumably that was true of all his people.

It was a decidedly undermanned invasion there didn't seem to be more then twenty of them, including the reinforcements who'd just come through the 'Stargate', which was when you thought about it a little unnerving. Especially when you remembered what Kevin Elliot had managed to accomplish all alone. Even one of these people was clearly a handful.

On the positive side they were obviously far more interested in opening communications than killing people. Ulmesh had not failed to notice the careful employment of sub-lethal force. Firing on the boy who'd offered parley had been a serious mistake, somebody had panicked. In fact, Ulmesh suspected that _everybody _was panicking - and that was an awfully good way to get people killed.

He cleared his throat, pulling the attention of the Tauri away from their strangely scribbled sheets of some flimsy material, and clearly enunciated a name; "Kevin Elliot."

----

"Jack!"

"Colonel O'Neill!"

Jack looked over his shoulder at Major Madison of SG-10 standing by the MALP and gave Daniel, over by the prisoners, a wait-a-minute wave before going to join her. "Yeah, Major?"

"It's the general, sir." She stood aside.

Jack leaned into the cameral pick-up. "Yessir?"

"We have to break contact, colonel," Hammond's slightly tinny voice answered. "SG-9 is due in ten minutes with the delegation from Reol. We are transferring support and control to the Alpha site. They will make contact immediately after we disengage."

"Got it, sir."

"Good luck, colonel." Behind them the puddle went out. Startled cries rose from the handful of prisoners. SGC personnel ignored it, they ignored the kawoosh when it came roaring out too - you can get used to anything.

Jack waited for the contact to stabilize before leaning into the MALP again. "Hey, Lou."

"Hey, Jack." Colonel Lou Ferretti, currently C.O. of the Alpha Site, responded. "So - what trouble are you in this time?"

"Damned if I know, we're still working on that part."

"Well, if you need anything you know who to call."

"Sure do -"

"JACK!"

"'Scuse me, gotta go talk to Daniel before he has an aneurysm," Jack strolled down to where his fuming archaeologist was waiting. "This better be pertinent."

Daniel pointed rudely at Ulmesh. "This guy's seen Elliot."

That was sure pertinent. "Great, can we talk to him yet?"

"Well, sort of."

Jack rolled his eyes.

----

"- a defensive cordon has been formed around Tumhal park and there has been no further activity from the invaders but citizens are advised to go to their shelter sites at once."

"Oh God!" said Kevin, with considerable feeling.

Lugal had his arm around Mrs. Sunun and she had both hers wrapped around Bil. Ashptim literally wrung his hands. "Is it an invasion, Kevin? Is it the Oppressors."

"Nope, it's an SGC rescue mission, which is almost as bad," he answered grimly. "Why the hell won't you people talk to them?"

"They're scared," young Bil said flatly.

Kevin let out a sigh. "Yeah, I get that. Trouble is they're doing the exact wrong thing. 'No man left behind.' that's the SGC's motto. They will keep coming until they establish my status and/or get me back, and sooner or later if they get no cooperation they will resort to lethal force - and believe you me, you do not want that!"

"What can we do?" Ashptim pleaded.

"Go ahead with my plan," Kevin answered.

"Which is?" Lugal asked.

Kevin grinned wryly. "I want to surrender."


	9. Chapter 9

An aircraft, looking like an unsuccessful mating between an old-style prop-plane and a chopper, whirred overhead. Assorted SG-teammates pointed the muzzles of their M249s skyward but it just cruised on by, like all the ones before it. Presumably it was some kind of recon plane.

Two of the Nisirian soldiers tried to take advantage of the momentary distraction. They surged to their feet, one grabbed Zoey Tibbets, five foot four in her combat boots and a hundred odd pounds including gear. The other picked on the equally dainty Dr. Jenner. Zoey promptly elbowed her assailant in the solar plexus, shifted weight and hurled him over her shoulder to land with a heavy thump at her feet. Lee Jenner was even more economical kicking backward over her shoulder, the toe of her small but sturdy boot striking her captor right between the eyes. He dropped like a rock.

Jack, hunkered down in front of Sargon Ulmesh, didn't so much as stir. "Well that was dumb," he remarked conversationally to nobody in particular, then turned his attention back to Daniel. "You were saying?"

"I think he's in command," his geek answered, raising his voice to be heard over Ulmesh tongue lashing his subordinates.

"Ya think?" said Jack.

"I'd call that confirmed," Father Tarrant agreed dryly.

"ANYWAY," Daniel continued, dividing his glares impartially between Jack, the Padre and the prisoner. "His name is Sargon Ulmesh and he's a senior military officer. According to him they had Elliot in custody but he escaped last night."

Jack broke into a broad grin. "That's my boy!"

...

"No." Everybody turned to stare at an almost formidable, Scholar Ashptim. "I won't let you do it, Kevin. You know what they'd do to you!"

"Maybe, maybe not," he replied. "Mr. Lugal, I understand you're a newsie cameraman?"

"Yes," he said blankly.

"Happen to have your camera with you?"

"No," Lugal said, with slowly dawning comprehension. "But I can get it."

Mrs. Sunun was onboard too. "Let me get my slate." She darted up the stairs, followed by her son.

Kevin turned back to a bewildered but still determined Ashptim. "Sir, the first thing they taught us in crisis psychology was that it isn't danger that makes people panic it's lack of information. Right now your people have no info and they're going ga-ga -"

_Ga-ga?_

"Nuts," Kevin corrected himself. "I mean they're panicking. The cure is more information."

"Publicity," said Lugal.

"Right," Kevin agreed, grinned and spread his arms. "I don't look like much of an alien threat now do I?"

...

"So basically Mr. Ulmesh here is saying his people are running around in circles and shooting anything that moves over a kid fresh outta the Academy," said Jack.

"A kid who apparently escaped from their version of high security with embarrassing ease," Daniel pointed out.

"Hey, I didn't say he wasn't good. Just that these folks seem to be overreacting just a tad."

"Does the date 31 October 1936 mean anything to you?" Lee Jenner inquired.

Daniel nodded energetically. "According to Force Leader Ulmesh his people are engaged in a cold war with the other major power on this globe, meaning lots of tension -"

"And paranoia, I get it." Jack looked up from their little huddle at Steve Castleman. "Talk to me."

The junior colonel crouched down to join the rest of them on the ground. "They got everything from howitzers to cap pistols trained on our perimeter. My guess is they'll blast the hell out of a falling leaf much less anybody who tries talking to them."

"Damn." Jack chewed his lip.

"I could give it a try," Lee offered, displaying her ribbon device. "I'd keep my shield up."

"Shield won't stop a shell, ma-am," said Castleman.

"Yeah, but they may not shoot at a girl - uh, woman." Axsel Reilly said over his c.o.'s shoulder.

Dr. Jenner was not offended. "That's what I was counting on."

"They shot at Sheftu, a seventeen year old kid," Jack pointed out. "Forget it, Lee."

"Just a suggestion." She shrugged.

Jack blew out a frustrated breath. "How in hell are we going to get these people to talk to us?"

It was a rhetorical question but it got an answer, from Reilly. "Sir, did you ever see a movie called The Day The Earth Stood Still?"

Steve Castleman rolled his eyes. Lee nodded energetically, big surprise. Jack gave Reilly the eyeball. "No."

He opened his mouth. "Keep it short, Axsel," Castleman growled.

Reilly closed his mouth, thought, then said; "Okay, ignoring the _entire _and _very good_ plot the alien gets the earth people's attention by a citywide blackout of all power."

"Except for planes in flight and hospitals," put in Lee.

"We can't be that selective," Reilly told her. "On the other hand our field won't extend for more than say a square mile."

"Wait a minute," Jack raised a hand for attention. "We got a gadget that'll do all that?"

"Yessir. It's based on Thor's Hammer, you remember, from Cimmeria?"

"Like I was there," Jack and Daniel chorused. They looked at each other.

Reilly forged on; "Anyway, SG-7 collected the bits and back engineered a suppression device that would do the trick."

"Yeah, great idea," Jack said. "Thing is we're not connected to base."

"They're not on-base," Reilly said triumphantly. They've been running trials on P3X-984."

"All right, we'll give it a try." Jack got up, brushing off his knees, glanced at Castleman. "By the way, your little geek got tackled by a prisoner."

The junior colonel glanced at Zoey. "Did you kill him?"

She rolled her eyes. "No, Colonel Daddy."

"That's my good girl."

...

Lugal had gone to get his camera. A visibly jittery Mrs. Unat stood near the door, a shawl draped over one arm and a big bag hanging from the other.

Mrs. Sunun was on her knees to give her son the full benefit of her maternal eye, gripping him firmly by the shoulders. "You're going to the shelter with Mrs. Unat and you're going to stay there!"

"No he won't. He'll give her the slip and go where the action is." Mother and son stared at Kevin, he grinned and shrugged. "I was eleven once myself, and not all that long ago." He dropped to his haunches next to Mrs. Sunun. "Tell you what, Bil. Why don't you go with Scholar Ashptim, he may need a supporting witness." The boy's face brightened and Kevin turned to the mother. "He'll be safe with the scholar, nobody's gunning for him." She gnawed her lip then nodded.

Mrs. Unat gave a gentle snort. "All I can say is if you're the alien, Mr. Lakamar, then our people are making a huge fuss over nothing!"

"Not quite nothing," Kevin admitted, getting to his feet. "But definitely overreacting."

"To put it mildly," Ashptim said grimly. "Come on, Bil." To Kevin: "I'll go straight to the deputy."

"It'll be better if I'm expected," Kevin agreed. A horn sounded outside. "That'll be our ride."

…

SG-7 walked out of the puddle; Major Holloway, Sergeant Lenhart and something on a sledge with the mad scientist twins hanging over it like it was their baby taking its first steps.

"So that's our new toy," Jack said to Holloway and she nodded. "Does it work?"

She shrugged. "Pretty well, the field's limited but they're working on that."

"Good men, so – how's it work?"

Mad scientist one opened his mouth but Sergeant Lenhart cut him off. "Throw the switch, press the red button and you're good to go."

Jack beamed, "Now that's what I Like to hear! You taking notes, Carter?" He left his second sputtering and went to join Daniel and Ulmesh. "Okay, plan A is in motion. How about plan B?"

"The Force Leader here is fairly sure he and his men won't be shot at if they signal before coming out," Daniel answered.

Jack's eyebrows rose. "Only 'fairly'?"

"He thinks his people are panicking and panicked men might do anything."

"He's right there." A hum came up from the machine behind them. "Okay, we just put out their lights. That'll make them either consider opening communications or go for an all out attack. Try and see it's the first will you, Daniel?"

…..

As a newsie cameraman Lugal rated a company car. Kevin had gathered that personal vehicles were something of a rarity on Nisir - at least inside the cities. Lugal handed a sheaf of plates to Kevin in the back seat. "The latest stills from inside the park.

Kevin squinted at the black and white images. "Got a higher resolution?"

"What?"

"Uh, never mind." 'I forgot, these people don't have digital imaging.'

_I would deduce a fairly primitive level of computer technology. _Lantash agreed.

"At least three teams in the first wave," Kevin mused to himself. "Teal'c's hard to miss and that's definitely Sheftu so we got SG-1 and 13...not sure who the third is...Whoops, that's gotta be Captain Sinclair leading the second wave, these folks are in trouble now!"

_I agree. _Lantash said grimly. The Tok'ra would probably never forget the havoc wrecked by SG-4 when Earth fell into the Timeloop last year. The Goa'uld wouldn't either.

"Trouble?" Mrs. Sunun asked worried from the front seat.

"I mean you've got some of our heavy hitters there in your park," Kevin answered. "God knows what they may come up with -"

At that moment the car engine died, Lugal pressed the starter without result. The approaching trolley had stalled too which seemed like a funny coincidence. Passengers started climbing out, in the cab the driver could be seen working away at something. Then people started coming out of the buildings on either side of the street. Kevin got out of the car. "What's going on?" he asked the people on the sidewalk.

Heads shook and shoulders shrugged. "Some kind of blackout," a man said helplessly.

A woman came out of the nearest store. "The phone lines aren't working either Mr. Shams.

"Or the radio," contributed another man.

"Add in car engines," said Lugal emerging from the driver's side and opening the passenger door for Mrs. Sunun.

"I can't raise central," the trolley driver complained, joining the growing crowd. "The engines just died...it doesn't make sense!"

Everybody agreed with that, the discussion became general.

'What do phones, internal combustion engines and radio all have in common?' Kevin asked his other half silently.

_They all operate by an exchange of energy. It sounds to me like somebody has engaged an energy dampening field._

"Damn," Kevin said softly, impressed. "I didn't know we could do that!"


End file.
